


rain

by forpeaches (bluecarrot)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arguing, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Jello, Post-Break Up, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/forpeaches
Summary: sometimes people make poor choices and do things that make them sad? sometimes that person is the author
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 17
Kudos: 93





	rain

**Author's Note:**

> written 23 March 2020.

Day One.

Brienne pours herself milk and adds coffee and goes to work and comes home and crawls into bed, burying between the sheets she can’t bear to wash because they smell like Jaime and he isn’t here anymore. He won’t be here again.

He said so.

Day Three.

The phone machine blinks red. A new message.

She steels herself and hits _Play._

Some political auto-call.

She takes a shower and pretends to herself that she isn’t crying.

Day Nineteen.

“I thought you wanted children,” says Margaery. She’s being kind, she’s always kind, but Brienne’s chin shakes.

Jaime said the same thing.

“I do. I think I do.”

“But not with him.”

“Yes, with him.” Honesty adds: “I thought so.”

“But not now?” Gently.

Brienne shakes her head. “It’s too soon. We hadn’t talked about it. Not really. He just assumed — he thought I’d want it, and I’d be happy with it. Roll with the punches.”

Rain slides down the window. 

At last Margaery says: “You’d only been dating a little while. I guess he didn’t know you that well.”

That hurts even worse. “I thought he knew me.”

“You broke your rule for him.”

“My rule?”

“About sleeping together. About not sleeping together for ... a year?”

She blushes. “That was never a rule.”

“Oh,” says Margaery. “Really? Because I remember when you were dating Hyle ...”

“Hyle isn’t Jaime.”  She had never wanted anyone like this, never known anyone like him — the way he made her knees fall apart when he kissed her that first night — the way he gasped aloud and shivered, saying her name.  And kissed her again, after.

“You still love him.”

Brienne looks at the rain.

Day Twenty-three.

A towncar pulls alongside her as she’s walking from the bank. The window rolls down. “Miss Tarth?”

Brienne keeps walking, chin up.

“Miss Tarth, please.”

“Go away,” she says.

“Jaime doesn’t know I’m here,” says Tyrion

and that does make her stop.

“He misses you.”

“He left me.”

“You hurt him. You know that it takes Jaime a long time to --"

“Tyrion. _He left me._ I don’t know what I can do about his poor little broken heart when _he’s_ the one who left. What do I do? Should I apologize? Should I -- should I get him drunk, seduce him, immediately become pregnant, and promise very firmly that I’ll keep this one if I get to keep him, too?” Her voice breaks.

Tyrion waits a polite amount of time. “Would you keep it?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not having a child just to make Jaime happy. If he — if we — later on — then yes. Maybe. But we’ve been broken up nearly as long as we were together. It’s stupid to feel like ... like this.”

“Whose loss is stupid? Yours — or his?”

She doesn’t answer.

Tyrion says “He misses you.”

“He told me he never wanted to see me again.”

“He was hurt.”

“Because I made a choice about my body and my future, and I didn’t ask his permission?”

“Brienne,” says Tyrion. “I think that at least, he’d want to be there while it happened.”

Day Twenty-five.

A familiar knock on her door.

She expects Jaime to be holding roses, chocolate — pizza at least. A token offering. An apology.

Instead he’s empty handed, with ratty jeans and tired eyes.

Brienne can’t seem to let go of the door; it’s like she still needs to hold on, to be able to slam it in his face at any moment. “Is true what Tyrion said true? Are you angry because you wanted to be there with me? What were you gonna, Jaime -- hold my hand while I got rid of our baby? What the fuck is that about? I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I know that.”

“It’s not your decision what I do.”

“I know.”

This isn’t Jaime; Jaime is loud and argumentative and mouthy. This is some Lannister-shaped jello. She stares at him. Lets go the doorknob. “You wanted to have children with me.”

“I want the option,” he says. “I want it to be a decision we make for the both of us, not some _fait accompli_ that happens when I think you’re out for a run. And no, of course _you_ don’t need someone to be there while you’re worried and sick and hurting. Obviously you’re the personification of the Warrior. I know that already ..."

The jello is getting loud; it’s growing a spine. 

“I love you and I was wrong to leave. I’m sorry. I was angry. But you did this without telling me and you didn't even let me be part of it. Not the decision," because she's opening her mouth to argue. "The surgery. The afterwards. I would have been in the goddamn waiting room, I would have taken you home --"  His voice breaks; he clears his throat. Says "You can’t say you trust me and act like you don’t. You can’t say you want a life with me and cut me out of it, Brienne.”

“You left me,” she says. “Your part in my life is over.”

“Bullshit,” says Jaime: and kisses her.

And Brienne kisses him back. Her fingers curl around his body, holding him in place where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> the original version of this had Brienne asking what she's supposed to do about Jaime's "achey breaky heart" which is, um


End file.
